Oslo'mae
by Legionaire
Summary: Post Inheritance - How could Eragon have known what lay to the east of Alagaesia? All he wanted was to find a place to resurrect the Dragon race. But fate has seen fit to grant him otherwise.
1. Prologue  Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or settings of the Inheritance Cycle.  
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**Prologue - Chapter 1**

Never before had Eragon cursed the sun so. Even during his days fleeing from the Urgals across the Hadarac desert with his half brother Murtagh, he had never experienced a heat wave such as this, nor an endless expanse of sand dunes and cloudless skies. The sun sat in the center of the sky and maybe it was because he hasn't had a drink for a while, but he was sure the sun bore a mocking face.

As he reached for his water skin, the lightness of it's weight he felt made him hesitate to take a sip.

_Drink up, little one_. The voice of Saphira spoke through his mind. Connected by a bond greater then any other, they need not communicate through words. _It's still leagues away, but my eyes were not fooled. There is an oasis up ahead._

The relief that Eragon felt was not limited to him. Not too far behind his stride, Blodhgarm let out a pleased sigh. Though his expression gave no hint of his condition, his labored walk, that still somehow retained grace, gave him away. To either side, the two elves Ulithr and Danlir were of the same condition.

Though she had been in the sky moments before, Saphira returned to the fluid dunes. She landed away from the traveling ground so they would not be engulfed by the sand she sent flying, then closed the distance between them. With no wind in the air to support her and the sun bearing down as it was, staying above had been a taxing exercise.

A month had passed since Eragon had left Alagaesia, setting sail along the Edda River. The river had flown on for leagues and the journey was relatively pleasant. Though they had left behind friends and loved ones, Eragon and Saphira had achieved a sense of peace between them. Instead of spending their days weeping for their loss, they focused on the challenges ahead.

The Edda River had taken them through lands which grew increasingly barren. The size of the river began to drop, becoming shorter and more shallow. Eventually, what little water was left flowed out into a dried lake bed that appeared nearly half the size of Leona Lake. The _Talita_ had served them well, but it could do them no more. With the dragons eggs and Eldunari safety gathered within the pocket of space behind Saphira, they collected their supplies from the ship and departed on foot.

Towards the start of the desert journey, many troubles began to occur for the metal warrior known as Cuaroc. The weight of his form may have been lighter then Saphira, but she had the size to balance herself out. After a number of falls, Eragon had sealed him within the same pocket of space that held all the eggs. It had taken some time to get him to agree to the plan.

Crossing the desert was no easy task, even for those such as Eragon and his company. The early days of their journey west had filled Eragon with a profound sense of dread. Unlike the Hadarac desert of Alagaesia, this one had no confirmed end. For all he knew, it could stretch on for a length greater then that of his home land. However, he would not turn around and none of his company had attempted to convince him to do so.

Nevertheless, he was plagued by concerns each day, and none of them seemed to have a solution.

As time passed, the sun sank and the blue sky turned orange. It was close to setting by the time Eragon and company arrived at the Oasis Saphira had informed him of.

It was quite a small but healthy break of color amidst the sand dunes. The pool was in the direct center of the green vegetation and was perfectly circular, almost so much that it looked artificial. It was about twice as wide as Eragon was tall. Arching over the shallow pool was the sole tree of the Oasis, yet it's wide leaves would provide more then enough shade for a small party during the day. Happy with the discovery, Eragon and company set up camp for the night.

"Is it me or does it look like-"

_Someone created this?_

Blodhgarm drew in close to the pool, and with cupped hand splashed some of the surprisingly cool water over his face. "I believe so. This pool is filled by an underground source of water that was likely found and summoned."

"Would this be the work of a Rider?"

"Only a Rider would travel this far. A capable magician could perform the same feat, but only the wings of a dragon could take them this far, or in our case, the power of the Eldunari. It's reasonable to assume that whoever created this made it so others could follow, or that he would have a way back."

If that was the case, then it solved one issue for Eragon. One thing that had concerned him was how he would transport the eggs back over the desert should they settle on the other side of it. If oasis' such as these had been set up along the way, then that would make the journey much easier.

Just as he had the nights before, Eragon mounted Saphira, leaving the elves to the camp. Taking advantage of the cooler weather, they soared up above so that they could spot out the route for the next day. With any luck, they would find another sight to camp at.

_I wonder if this desert has a name?_ Eragon though to his dragon partner.

_If it doesn't, you could always give it a name yourself. _

With his power over the ancient language, given to him by the Word, such things were feats Eragon was capable of. _With any luck, maybe we'll find a town along the way and they could tell it to us._

_You really think people would settle out here? I know the many races can adapt, but faced with a challenge that this desert provides, I'd say otherwise. _

_If there are no inhabitants here, then what about on the other side?_

_If there is an 'other side.' The chance of us meeting the sea always exists. _

That was always a chance, but what Eragon suggested voice an additional concern he had with the journey. There was always the possibility that whatever lay on the other side of this desert may be just as populated as Alagaesia. The thought of that filled him with a mixture of emotions. On one hand, such a case would mean that this journey would be pointless should the reason of his arrival be found out. On the other, Eragon was excited at the prospect of coming into contact with another culture. Alagaesia had been so diverse, but with such a split between lands, it was hard to imagine that they developed in a similar manner.

The desert during the night was a difference scene to it's day version entirely. The yellow sands had acquired a dark blue hue and the night sky was so clear, it felt as if he were gazing up into a different sky then that over Alagaesia. Countless stars glittered across the dark void, all of varying color and sizes. For a while, Eragon was more preoccupied with the sky, then he was the ground.

_I just thought of something... _

Saphira glanced back. _Yes, little one?_

_If the world is round, then does that mean if we keep going, we'd eventually reach Alagaesia again, but coming from the other side?_

_...I believe so! That would mean this world has no end. Unless you escape into the hollow sky. Imagine if we did so. We could raise the dragons on the moon!_

The idea seemed both absurd and fantastic to the both of them. From what their encounter with the highest reaches of the world had told them, the air gets thinner as you go up and would eventually come to an end. From that, they could only guess that the moon held no air.

_It does look quite empty._

_That it does._

The pair spent a good three hours gliding in the skies, careful to maintain the whereabouts of their camp in their heads. As the land moved beneath them, they eventually spotted an Oasis almost identical to the one they were camped at, but it was so far off that it would take another day or so of walking.

Running was always an option, and the elves were the best at it, but under the desert sun, they tired very quickly. For the first few days, they had run across the desert dunes, but the exhaustion they felt reached such a level that they had to spend two days in recovery in the first of the oasis; they had come by.

With the sight of their next stop, Eragon and Saphira returned to their camp, where their elves companions awaited them.

0000

In his sleep, Eragon dreamed of those he had left behind. His subconscious brushed against Saphira, and felt that she was doing the same.

As much as he didn't want it to effect him, Eragon missed them.

He missed the villagers of Carvahall. He would have liked to seen them rebuild their town and even join in.

He missed Angela and her secretive ways. He never did get a chance to find out who or what she really was.

He missed Roran, and Katrina and the fact that he would most likely never be there to see their family grow and pass. He had promised to maintain contact with magic, but it wasn't the same as being there. Half brothers they may be in blood, but Roran would always be a true brother to him.

Even his other half brother, Murtagh, entered his dreams, but Eragon missed the person he knew before Galbatorix had claimed him, not his enemy after.

He missed Nasuada. In her time as Queen, she and Eragon had grown quite close. Though their duties were important, that didn't stop them from sharing a conversation and a drink once in a while. At times, they might have disagreed with each other, but they could always work things out between them. But he did not worry for her safety in his absence. Elva was there and she had promised to stay by her side.

He missed Orik and his companionship. Though Eragon was the hero of Alagaesia, the Shadeslayer and Kingkiller, and Orik was the king of the Beor Mountain Dwarves, the two were like best friends when around each other. Their titles and positions didn't seem as important, and neither let it get in the way. He wished he could have hugged his friend once more.

And then, there was Ayra, whom he missed the most of all. She was his first love, and even with the knowledge that they may never see each other again, it felt like she would be his last. At the very end, Eragon had learnt of her feelings for him, that she reciprocated his love for her, but even then, it would never be. Knowing they would be forever apart still left an ache within his chest, but no longer did it cripple him with sadness.

Even in his sleep, Eragon could feel Saphira felt much the same, but her strongest feelings were for those of her first mate, Firnen, dragon to Ayra. But she was more practical then Eragon. Though she would remember her times with Firnen, she knew she would move on.

As the sun rose the next morning, and in the mornings after, Eragon, Saphira, Blodhgarm, Ulithr and Danlir continued to cross the immense desert. No end seemed to appear, but each night Saphira would always find the next stop along their journey. As predicted, oasis' were set up along the way, like markers leading them on.

Days had turned to weeks. Eragon had begun to feel that he should be worried over this, but the consistent appearance of the breaks in the desert stopped him from doing so. If anything, it filled him with hope. If a Rider had done this, then perhaps that Rider lay at the other side.

"This will be quite the journey each time eggs and riders must be exchanged," said Ulithr one day, his voice a pleasant tune. "If my sense haven't failed me, we've crossed a distance close to equal of that of Alagaesia."

Gliding above, Saphira's thoughts were cast down. _I for one will be happy to not have to repeat this crossing. Many days I have gone without meat, feeding myself with the brushes and berries of the oasis'. I do not mean to alarm you all, but each of you looks exceptionally tasty._

Eragon had laughed, for he knew she would never resort to that.

The days continued to pass without much incident. The elves never complained about the conditions, even Blodhgarm, whose quarter inch fur must have been heating him up more then his fellow elves. Nor did they say anything about the nature of their journey, that they had come all this way yet seen nothing but sand.

Until one day, something else greeted their eyes. They had stopped over again and in the setting sun, they had seen it.

Far off into the distance, something stood. Even with his enhanced eyes, he could not make out any more then it was a tall, yet thin structure. So he asked Saphira to fly ahead a take a closer look.

When she returned, Eragon felt an excited curiosity ebb from her conscious.

_What did you see?_

_A lone tower. There was nothing but sand surrounding it, nothing in sight other then that structure. But it was an amazing sight. That structure is enormous! _

Saphira fed the image from her own mind into Eragon's and the elves. The instant he saw it through a dragons eyes, he was blown away.

Enormous had been an understatement. It was the tallest land based object that he had ever seen, and that includes the Beor Mountains.

_It's leagues high!_

It had a solid based, shaped like a cone with it's top severed. Above, it's cylindrical rise was decorated with a type of ornate architecture that none of the party had ever seen before. Images of strange creatures and scenes decorated it's entire surface, from the base, to the very top, which reminded Eragon of a pair of hands joined at the base of the palms, yet spread and fingers clawed. In the yellow of the desert sand, much of it's stone was a brilliant white. To the base, the images had been stripped of color, but those above retained theirs. Despite the clarity of the images above, Eragon couldn't make sense of them.

_Just what is this thing? Why is it out here all alone?_

_Couldn't tell you,_ replied Eragon. _Possibly the remains of a city lost long ago._

_Then why is just the one structure left standing?_

_Perhaps we could find out if we investigate it?_

Blodhgarm interrupted them. _Is that so wise? Who knows what could be inside that thing?_

"Nothing, if the rest of the desert is anything to go by," Eragon said aloud.

Saphira stretched her wings out as she yawned._ I didn't see any spots where we could stop the next night. It could be that whoever came before us stopped over there, and continued on._

Blodhgarm didn't seem too convinced. "Or perhaps they stopped over there and never came out...However, it's not like we have much choice. We can either on forward, or turn around and head back."

"That's not an option," said Eragon with a tone of finality.

Though they could see it, the tower was days away so they filled their water skins and bellies as much as they could and set off, camping in the bare dunes for three nights. Unfortunately for them, wind had started to pick up and they often woke to find sand all over them.

Soon enough though, they arrived at the tower's base.

_It feels like the tower is swaying, like it could topple on top of us at any moment. _

Eragon shared Saphira's feelings. It was a very daunting sight, one that Eragon didn't want to stare at for too long. Somehow, the sight seemed to unbalanced him.

Before they proceeded, each of them let their conscious stretch out towards the interior of the tower. Eragon couldn't stop himself from frowning when his thoughts didn't get past the walls. Looking around, he saw that everyone had experienced that same thing.

Even after speaking to the dragons of the Eldunari, they had gotten nowhere. Not even Umaroth, dragon to the famous Vrael, could peer inside it's walls.

Blodhgarm eyed the entrance cautiously. "I don't like this, Shadeslayer. This tower must have wards of some kind upon it's walls, even though...it does not feel like magic."

"Could it be that whatever stone this thing is made of naturally blocks us for seeing past?" offered Danlir.

"If so, then this would be quite a discovery," mused Ulithr.

No signs of travel marked the entrance to the tower, but being all the way out in the desert, it wasn't likely that any would remain, even if they were from the day before.

"No other option, but to look," said Eragon, starting forward. Saphira followed behind without hesitation, as did the elves, despite their words.

Eragon wasn't actually as worried as he thought he ought to be. Maybe it was the fact that he held so many Eldunari with him that comforted him. From them, no voices of rejection sounded out, only those of curiosity, to see a structure that went beyond those of Doru Areaba.

The chamber they entered into was very wide and had a ceiling so high that Saphira could easily fly. Symbols of a language alien to them all decorated the walls, as did mosaics crafted from what appeared to be precious jewels. Even the floors were host to such creations, and the sheer number of jewels involved in the crafting should have them all in awe. But it was not the symbols, nor the mosaics that their attention was occupied by.

They all looked elsewhere, towards a large archway, leading further into the tower's first floor.

The skull of a dragon and the bones that made it's neck up crept out of the archway, but beyond that, there was nothing. The rest of it's body was missing.

It suddenly occurred to Eragon that this dragon could possibly be the dragon of the Rider that summoned the oasis'.

Saphira moved up beside Eragon. _If so...then it looks like this road is at an end._

Just as she finished her thoughts, there was a loud crash from behind. All of them spun to face the direction of the noise, only to see that where there should be the bright light of the desert, there was only a solid wall.

"In the worst way possible..." said Eragon, grimly.

[**A/N**: Just thought I'd make an apology in advance over any grammatical or spelling errors. No matter how many times I go over these things, I always seem to miss some. Anyways, Enjoy!]


	2. Prologue Chapter 2

****Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or settings of the Inheritance Cycle.****

**Prologue - Chapter 2**

Initially, Eragon felt panic after seeing their plight. As beautiful as the chamber's interior was, it did nothing to allay his fears of being forever trapped within the mysterious tower. But he knew that panic would do little to help the situation so he used the meditation techniques taught to him by his late master, Oromis, to steady his breathing and relieve the tightness in his chest. Through his link with his partner, Eragon felt Saphira do the same.

Blodhgarm wore the same cool expression of calm he always seemed to have as he approached what was once the door to the outside. Running his hands along it for a moment, he turned back to Eragon and shook his head. "It is as if the door never existed."

Though he kept his emotions steady, Eragon felt himself a fool for stepping into the tower without truly considering what may await them. Worry over the lack of any potential stops beyond the tower may have influenced his decision, but looking back, he knew he should have given the matter more thought.

_Do not trouble yourself_. No blame came from Saphira as her thoughts touched his. _You couldn't have known. And besides, there was no other place for us to travel to._

"It was either this place, or possibly fatal long walk past," offered Ulithr. "I for one am glad for the shade." Eragon saw that he made a careful note of ignoring the dragon skull and neck bones.

"Strange, isn't it. This place should feel like a furnace with the heat outside, yet it is quite cool." Away from them, Danlir paced slowly around the edge of the room, admiring the jeweled mosaics. "A material that blocks our thoughts, and maybe the effects of the weather, and enough jewels to make the wealthiest of men and women jealous. I think we may have stumbled on to quite a treasure."

_A beautiful grave is still a grave_, Eragon thought to himself as he eyed the dragons remains. He made sure not to let any of the others hear that thought, but the look Saphira gave him suggested she caught the nature of it.

_You shouldn't worry so much, little one. We saw openings along the surface of the tower's rise, and they looked big enough for me to fit through. High up as they may be, I can easily fly us all down._

At Saphira's words, Eragon felt a little foolish and thankful. "Then we have only one way to go. Let's just hope this tower isn't a maze." Despite his words, the state of the dead dragon still troubled him.

Leaving behind the entrance chamber, they discovered that the rooms beyond were very much the same. Mosaics covering entire walls depicted strange scenes, such as a large city constructed with a rigid but somehow elegant style, or a scene in the sky with creatures that looked like eagles. With the texts carved in the spaces next to the pictures, they could only assume they explained the images, but Eragon, nor the elves had ever seen such scripture before.

Reaching what felt like the centre of the tower's first floor, they discovered a large circular hole in the roof, big enough for Saphira to fly through. Peering into it, they discovered it went through the next roof as well, and the roof after.

If there were a set of stairs, they didn't bother searching for them.

Using the ancient language to lighten their weight, Eragon and the elves were flown up by Saphira, for a total of six floors. At the highest, the roof was whole.

Though they passed through the levels quickly, it was obvious to them all that all of the six levels were very much the same, a mix of images created from precious gems, and text beside each of them. Though they were a marvel to view, Eragon didn't want to waste too much time admiring them.

As they searched the sixth floor, they found a wide passageway that curled around the edge of the interior, leading upwards. Unlike the rooms outside, the passageway was quite bland, it's walls made from a stone the colour of honey, whilst it's floors were tiled with dark squares split by tiny white lines.

"The base of the the tower alone looked to be a quarter of a league high," said Danlir as they moved up the passage. "It may be some time before the reach the windowed rise."

"A good thing we are immortal, then," replied Ulithr, a soft smile upon his lips.

As they walked up the passage, the silence of the empty tower was broken up by the sound of running water. As the passage flattened out and ahead, Eragon saw an archway built into the side of the wall, leading into another level. The noise came from there.

Beyond, the passage continued to climb.

Ulithr frowned. "I smell fruit...and trees..."

Blodhgarm moved ahead. "It smells as though we are approaching our own home of Du Weldenvarden."

Eragon followed behind, and turned to face the interior of the seventh level.

As opposed to seeing the inside of a stone structure like he expected, Eragon saw a wide forest glade, with a flowing stream cutting through the middle of it. The trees and plants weren't large compared to those found in Du Weldenvarden, but the thickness of their foliage completely obscured the roof. In the space not filled by trees and shrubs, rich green grass grew. As Eragon walked forward, he noticed that the grass seemed to shimmer with a gentle purple light. The purple light that caught on the grass also seemed to flow through a transparent mist that surrounded the edges of the glade.

It was beautiful, rivalling even the luscious vales of Ellesmera. For a moment, Eragon was reminded of his last time there with Arya, but quickly suppressed the thought.

Saphira sniffed at the air._ I can see no light source...yet there is light...it's just the same with the previous rooms. _

Muttering in the ancient language, Ulithr summoned an orb of water from the stream. He then stared at it, as if waiting for something to happen, but when nothing did, he took a sip. "It's not poisoned, or fouled. It's cold, and very sweet."

Everyone moved forward to try it for themselves.

The water was the most pure liquid Eragon had ever consumed. After swallowing it down, he felt quite refreshed and even a little more energetic. "Does this water having healing properties?"

"There is no spell cast upon it, yet I cannot deny that I feel revitalised after taking a drink." As nice as the water had been, Blodhgarm had an uncertain look upon his face. "Perhaps it is the effect of trees whose roots feed off the water. There are a few species here that I do not recognise."

Blodhgarm left the stream and moved over to a tree nearby, one that was bearing fruit. The fruit was yellow with an orange hue to it, in the shape of a large tear drop. The stalk at the top of the fruit was so thin, it looked like a breeze could knock the fruit off. As Ulithr did with the water, Blodhgarm spoke with the ancient language after taking one of the fist sized fruits from the tree. When he was satisfied, he took a bite from it.

"How it is?" asked Eragon, coming up beside him.

"Like a mix between a strawberry and apple, but with the sting of an orange." Blodhgarm took one of the tear drop fruits and handed it to Eragon. But in the process of doing so, he quickly dragged one of his sharpened nails across Eragon's arm.

Eragon felt the pain, but did not flinch. "What was that for?"

"Try the fruit. Forgive me for using you as a test, but I have a hunch."

Taking a bite of the fruit's soft flesh, a delicious flavour hit his sense of taste, which left a pleasant tingling in his mouth. The same sensation seemed to spread as he swallowed. Lifting his arm, Eragon watched as the cut Blodhgarm had given him vanished before his eyes.

_Amazing. _Saphira ate a couple of them, and Eragon wasn't sure if she was referring to the taste or the effect._ Does the fruit have any magical properties?_

"It would appear not," said Blodhgarm, finishing his fruit. "Yet it heals just as well as a spell of healing would."

Though the glade was vast, this was the only type of fruit they could find. After each of them ate their share, they gathered some to take with them. They also stocked up on the water.

Eragon was the first to start moving. "As amazing as this place is, we can't stay here forever. We should move on."

Saphira licked her teeth in satisfaction. _With the floors below as they were, and a forest within stone here, I look forward to what we find next._

The group made their way back to the passage, and started to climb again. It wasn't long before it came to an end, and the eighth floor was before them.

It was a library, the likes of which Eragon had never seen before. Not even the hoard of books and scrolls collected by Galbatorix could compare.

The ceiling was almost a hundred feet high, yet the cases holding the books stretched up just as far. Though there were no ladders, each bookcase was split with enough room that two dragons could walk side by side. The only exception to this were two large walkways making a cross shape in the room, breaking the library floor into four equal parts. These walkways could fit four of Saphira, side by side.

Books of diverse colours and sizes filled each shelf to the brim, with some of them lying on the floor in neat piles. Without opening them, Eragon could already tell that they all were written with the same scripture as the wall text on the first floors.

On the other side of the room, Eragon could make out an arch identical to that which decorated the entrance they had come through.

As much as he'd like to discover the knowledge held within this library, his inability to read the text would mean they'd just be wasting time. However, the chance that books of their language being here wasn't all that low, considering it's size.

Breaking off, the group walked between the cases, eyeing the many spines of the books. Checking each case took quite a while, but in the end, they had no luck. With little else to do here, they moved on to the next level.

Only to find another library almost identical to the one below.

Eragon couldn't help but be blown away. Never before had he seen such a vast collection of knowledge. The elves had an impressive set up in Ellesmera, which might have stood against only a single floor, but with a second floor, it was dwarfed. Even more so when they discovered a third level to the library. And a fourth.

"Can you imagine what might be stored here?" said Ulithr after they joined from searching the fourth level. "Our histories would have filled up a single level, but with four this large, it may gave us hints just to how old the civilisation this place belongs to may be,"

On the fifth floor, they saw much of the same, except for one difference. At the centre of the room, where the two main walkways met, there was a large clearing, surrounding by a decorative knee high fence. In the centre of that, was a very detailed and coloured map built into the floor.

At first, none of them recognised the land they saw. Then...

"Is that Alagaesia?"

It certainly looked like Alagaesia, but the labels did little to help.

_I didn't realise...it was so small._

Before the defeat of Galbatorix, Eragon and Saphira had seen the true nature of the world along with Glaedr. The world was round and the sky was hollow. Such knowledge had prepared them to believe that lands lay beyond the borders of the maps depicting their homeland. But what they saw before them still shocked them.

Alagaesia was on the lower edge of a continent, stretching out towards the ocean away from the rest of the land mass. Above the Du Weldenvarden forest, there was a small range of mountains connected to the Spine, followed by the empty sea. Below the Beor mountains, it was the same. Alagaesia ended with the sea on the Western, Northern and Southern front. To the east, however, the land continued.

Alagaesia didn't even make up a quarter of the continent. It would be generous to say it made a sixth.

To the east of Alagaesia was the desert the party was now in. At it's longest point from east to west, the desert was two and a half times the width of Alagaesia. The tower was marked on the map, a little under half way through. Most of the desert was completely blank, aside from a small lake to the far north east of the tower, surrounding a marker that indicated a town. Beyond that, the desert receded.

To the east of the desert was a mountainous land filled with the green of forest and blue of rivers and lakes. It wasn't as wide as Alagaesia, but it stretched up a long coast before meeting a wall of mountains. In the centre, a large lake sat dotted with small islands. To it's north west, was a single mountain that looked like it's height could match that of this tower. Below the lake, past a small mountain range, was a forest covering the southern third of the land. Beyond it, across a small strait, was a large island, then the sea. Of all the lands the map showed, it was the most detailed and labelled.

There was a large mass of land to the north of the desert, but the browns, greys and whites made it seem quite desolate, along with it's lack of labels. To the deserts south, there was a small, yet green piece dotted with settlements.

"And to think, this may not be the limit to the world," muttered Ulithr. "Elves, Men and Urgals came from across the sea, so it wouldn't to unwise to guess land resided beyond the sea west of Alagaesia."

"The world is round." Eragon pointed to both Alagaesia, and the land east of the desert. "It's possible that the east side of this continent meets up with the west should you cross the sea." However, what Ulithr said was also possible. For all Eragon knew, this continent could be tiny in comparison to other, far off lands.

Eragon had already explained what he had seen to the elves when he had flown far above the clouds, so the concept wasn't new to them. "If we are heading west, then that means we may be heading to the most populated realm on this land. That's not something we want."

Of all the lands, the north appeared the most empty. However, the white blanketing it's display suggested that it was a land of cold, which was not a suitable place to raise dragon eggs.

Eragon stared at the map, troubled. He was aware that the didn't need a land devoid of people, just somewhere private, apart from the people, or inaccessible to them. But that was not the main cause for his worries. The cause of his trouble was the desert that seemed to make up the centre of the continent.

It was enormous, bigger then the lands surrounding it. It divided the realms by a inhospitable piece of heat absorbing land, putting such distance between them that travelling from one to the other made it impractical to settle so far away. Should Eragon and his companions make it to the east, the journey to and from Alagaesia could be possibly months of constant travel, and that was if they survived the journey through the desert. Also, Eragon was having doubts that his magic would allow him to communicate over such a distance without putting the Eldunari under stress.

The possibility that they could sail around existed, but Eragon didn't like the idea of relying on a route through unknown waters. The picture of a large serpent looking creature in the bottom right corner made him wary. They had already encountered the Nidhwal when travelling to Vreongard. Who knows that the waters of the east would hold?

"We should burn this map into our memories, then move on," said Blodhgarm. "If worse comes to worse and we must turn back, this would be a remarkable thing to present to the people of Alagaesia as a fairth, once we find a usable surface."

Everyone was in an agreement. To be safe, they all recorded their own memory of it and after comparing to each others, they were satisfied enough to leave the library behind, heading up to the next floor.

Above, they discovered yet another library floor. Rather then search this one, they simple left it behind. Or would have, if not for the peculiar discovery at the opening of passage to the thirteenth floor.

Eragon bent over to pick it up. At first, it looked like all the other books. It was small and had a bland, dark green cover with a black spine. There were no words on the cover or spine, but when he opened it, he saw that it was written in his own language.

"The Diary of Rickard Wandermind?"

The name he spoke elicited a reaction of realization from the elves behind him. Blodhgarm came up behind him and peered at his discovery. "Rickard Wandermind was a known rider before the fall."

Ulithr joined him. "He was an adventuring sort. I've never met him, but he was well known for two things: his love of exploration, and his willingness to ignore his duties to favor his own whims."

"Then that dragon below?"

"It could be Liasynth, a dragon of brilliant emerald scales and peridot flesh" answered Danlir, dismayed. "Now that I recall, the size is similar. It looks like we've found where the last of Rickard's whims took him."

Eragon started to flip through the pages. "His diary is here, and that's obviously a bad sign, but his bones are not. Without the weather outside the ravage them, at least his remains should be here."

"Perhaps there is hope yet." Blodhgarm was the first to enter the passage. "Let us be off. We can read as we walk."

[**A/N**: Thanks for making it this far. Hope I haven't lost anyone yet. Thank you Marzipan007 and Armpit for being the first to review. As for your questions, I'll let you know as soon as the answers come to me. On another note, I've noticed a glaring mistake. Eragon was supposed to have a larger number of Elves with him. Until I rewrite this, lets just say they are camped on the edge of the desert, waiting until the smaller party has found a safe way through...please?]


	3. Prologue Chapter 3

**Prologue - Chapter 3**

Even though he had only read a few entries, the diary of Rickard Wandermind turned out to be quite interesting. It was written as one might write a story book, detailing the environments he went to, the people he met and the challenges he faced. Eragon wouldn't mind sitting down to read the whole diary, but their current situation left him with more important duties. So he skipped the majority of Rickard's writings to find any that involved this tower. Luckily, the last few entries did.

The first thing that Eragon had learned of was that the tower did not trap Rickard and his dragon in. They had entered and ascended without fuss.

As it turns out, there were more levels to the library then they could have possibly dreamed off. Though they had climbed another six levels, Rickard's diary claimed the library style of the tower levels went up another twenty. Considering the number of books and scrolls each level held, even Blodhgarm couldn't contain his surprised after learning that.

But one thing about the diary confused Eragon. If it was on the thirteenth floor, then why does it contain information about the levels above it? He had run this by the rest of the group, but the only logical answer was that he ascended high, then came back down, dropping his diary on the way.

"I wouldn't mind giving up a few hundred years just to learn this language and understand the wonders this library may contain." Along the way, Ulithr had picked up one of the foreign books and has been looking over the symbols that made up the unknown scripture.

After climbing another three levels, Eragon finally reached the last entry. The previous entries had given detail to the many library levels, but this one was different. On the fortieth floor, the library finally ended with what Rickard had described as an immense temple. The diary claimed the height of the ceiling was the equivalent to over thirty floors, meaning it would be impossible to find a way up on foot. Thankfully, Saphira was there with them. To top off the better news, Rickard's description included the wide windows they had seen from outside.

Despite feeling better about coming closer to their goal, Eragon was still troubled by the dragon remains they had found on the first floor. Rickard's diary had shown that Liasynth had been with him in his climb. Much of the writings about his dragons mentioned her endless complaining about a lack of real food._ Does that mean the dead dragon at the entrance wasn't Liasynth?_ Eragon wondered.

_Perhaps someone or something killed Liasynth on their way out?_

"That's a dark thought," replied Eragon with a frown. "If that's so, then whatever it is could still be here." The possibility may exist, but Rickard and his dragon didn't have access to the Eldunari, unlike Eragon. Perhaps that was the reason Eragon felt unaffected by that chance.

Dissatisfied with the book he had been reading through, Ulithr set it down upon one of the floor piles. "It has been hundreds of years. The chance that it is still here is just as great as the chance that it has moved on."

"Rickard may not have been the last rider to come through here," said Danlir. "The dragon could be another."

"That doesn't change the fact that we could run into something with the power or skill to kill a dragon. We should be cautious." Blodhgarm turned his eyes upon Eragon. "Shadeslayer, perhaps we should bring Cuaroc out. An extra sword against the unknown wouldn't hurt."

Agreeing with Blodhgarm, Eragon unsealed Cuaroc from the pocket of space carrying the eggs and Eldunari. No longer inhibited by the sand, Cuaroc was able to make his own way with ease.

Because they had moved at a slow pace, none of the group was feeling too tired by the time the opening of the fortieth floor appeared before them. Rickard's diary had described the room in details, but that was his last entry. There was nothing to suggest anything sinister lay in wait for them, yet Eragon could not shake the bad feeling that had slowly come over him the higher they climbed.

Taking a calming breath, Eragon stepped into the fortieth floor.

The room was far greater then any other they had come across. Unlike the previous levels, this single room took up the entire floor of the level. The room was cylindrical and it's ceiling rose very high up, just as Rickard had described. Rays of light streamed in from the wide cross shaped windows, and decorating the walls between the windows were lengthy curtains of red velvet that were as long as the room was tall. The floor was made of a polished marble that reflected much of the room, making it feel even larger. A rug that looked to be made from the same material as the long curtains led the way from the entrance, to a large altar at the other side of the room. Upon the lower parts of the altar, dark sculptures depicting strange animals stood. At the highest part of the altar, there was a strange metallic structure that reminded Eragon of what a bird might perch upon. The metal that made it was like silver, but much more radiant.

Despite the grandeur of the room, something else had caught Eragon's eye.

Standing at the base of the altar, looking up at the bird perch like creation, was a woman.

As soon as Eragon had stepped in, the woman had turned to face him, greeting Eragon with a sight that he had never seen the likes of before.

It would be an understatement to call her beautiful. What Eragon saw put to shame everything his eyes had ever witnessed. Forests, mountains, architecture. The women and elves he'd seen in his travels. The Isidar Mithrim. The spectral dragon during the elven Blood-Oath Celebration. He didn't want to admit it, but even Ayra and Saphira paled in comparison to this woman.

Her light and pure skin was smoother then that any elf, something that Eragon previously thought impossible. Her facial features were of a quality that only the divine could create. Much of her long, wavy hair fanned out as if carried by the air. Coloured rose tinted gold, it glowed with a radiance that no precious metal could match. Shining as if the sun touched each strand, most of it reached past her hips, with a few silky ropes at the front falling past her shoulders. An ornate tiara made of thinly crafted gold separated the length of her hair from her fringe. Rich blue eyes more exquisite then any jewel locked with Eragon's.

The clothes she wore looked a mix between beautifully crafted armour, and professionally tailored cloth. Her chest was armoured with a glowing steel plate decorated by a pair of highly detailed, feathered wings. She wore large, pointed shoulder plating made of the same metal as her chest. Stiff cloth formed half sleeves the length of her arms that came out from her shoulder armour. Her lower half was dressed in a long ankle length skirt that was plated on either side of her legs, but free down the middle. It was a dark green, trimmed and patterned with gold.

Questions for the woman sprang up in Eragon's mind, but his mouth spoke none of them. He couldn't remember the last time something had struck him speechless so.

At first, the woman only offered an inquisitive gaze, giving the same to the elves when they entered. Eragon wasn't even surprised when they reacted in a similar way to him. He would have been more shocked if they hadn't.

Then Saphira and Cuaroc entered the room.

The woman's expression twisted violently, a mix between disbelief and rage as her eyes fell upon them.

Everyone was effected by the change in her demeanor as a killing intent washed over the room like a tidal wave. Maybe it was her gentle image from before, but initially Eragon felt no fear towards her. But with this change, a terror gripped him, the likes of which not even Galbatorix had instilled in him.

This woman was strong. Stronger then anyone else present. Perhaps even all of them put together. Eragon's sense told him this as her posture changed. Every fiber of his being began to scream for him to run, that he could not match this woman, who was clearly about to attack. The fact that he possessed so many Eldunari didn't seem any comfort at all.

He had to do something. He had to stop her somehow.

"We-" Eragon started.

And it was over.

Comprehension over what just happened failed Eragon. One moment, he had been about to speak. The next, his senses went dark and control of his body left him.

Whatever this women was, she had dispatched Eragon at such a speed, he couldn't even perceive it.

It was as his fears had spoke to him. He hadn't stood a chance. The time to draw energy from the Eldunari, or even alert them hadn't existed.

Darkness took him, and he knew nothing.

[**A/N**: An thus ends the prologue. Now, on to the main story. Thanks again to those who reviewed. I never knew how good they could be for motivation.]


	4. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

A scene of naught but darkness. An empty world untouched by light.

Was it a dream in sleep? Or was it that which awaited everyone after life?

Neither answer seemed to fit. Despite the lack of surroundings, Eragon felt like he was aware, that when his body moved, it was according to the will of his mind. He couldn't see himself, not even if he brought his hands right in front of his face. But he could feel the movement, feel his body respond to his mind. Dreams aren't usually like that.

So then where was he?

The last thing he remembered...would suggest that this was the end of his life.

He had been attacked, by a woman with exquisite clothing, divine features, lustrous hair and brilliant eyes. With what, he could not say. Did she cut him down? Or hit him with magic? Again, he could not say. The split second after she had seen Saphira and Cuaroc, Eragon's awareness of the world had been ended.

Saphira. What had happened to her? And Cuaroc? And the Elves? The Eggs? The Eldunari?

Eragon could feel none of them in the black expanse. Their minds were no where to be found, and even the feeling of his bond with Saphira, that was once always with him, was gone. It's absence left him with a profound sense of emptiness he felt nothing else could compare to.

It was not the sadness that Eragon had felt from Glaedr when Oromis was taken from him. He did not feel Saphira's life diminish. His feel for the bond had simply vanished. But was it really so different? Had Saphira perished, and he had simply not been aware of it?

No. It was different. The bond had been cut, but neither side of it had fallen. That explanation seemed to sit with Eragon better, but the only comfort it provided him was that Saphira was not dead. It did nothing to fill the emptiness.

That woman must have had something to do with it. Did she cut the bond herself? The thought of such an act scared Eragon. He knew that a bond could be forcefully created, from his experience with Galbatorix, but he had never heard of it being severed without killing them.

Then, was he really dead? How else could he explain it?

Just as he considered this, the seemingly empty darkness shifted, as if another had come to occupy it?

_Saphira?_ He said with his mind in hope.

It was futile. The second the thought had formed, he already felt that the new presence was that of something different. Something...familiar?

It was a vast presence, that of which he had only felt once before. So recent was it, that the memory of it was clear in his mind.

The woman who had attacked him. Or so he thought.

But it wasn't. It was similar in that it was imposing, the presence of someone far greater then he, but it did not have the same feel to it, that warm brilliance that surrounding the exceptionally beautiful woman. This presence, felt cold and dark, as if he had stepped from an empty room into a swirling blizzard.

His eyes focused on the source.

"What a strange creature you are!"

It was a young girl. A very young girl. She looked like she was only five, maybe six years old. Her voice was sweet and her face and smile pure and innocent. She had long black hair, perfectly straight down to her knees. A long, yet fitting white and simple dress was all that she wore. Her image alone was that of a young girl any man would be proud to be the father of.

And yet Eragon's senses told him otherwise. He did indeed feel the innocence the girl portrayed so well, but he also felt a cruelty with it in that gaze of hers, like she would enjoy pulling Eragon to pieces as a normal child might do to an insect. Worse, he felt a familiar power to her, something like the woman in the tower possessed. If anything, it was far greater.

"I remember you. You're not a human. But you're not an elf either! Not as creative as I might have been, but it's good work nonetheless."

The way she spoke, as if she were older then she appeared, as well as her familiarity with him, unsettled Eragon, but it was nothing compared to the terror the space around her seemed to pulsate with.

The girl stared at Eragon intently, edging closer to him with her small foot-steps. Eragon tried to turn and move, but he could not. The ability to control himself had left him, as if his body had become a prison for his mind.

Eragon wanted assume the girl had something to do with it, unwilling to admit it was fear paralysing him.

As she drew closer, Eragon thoughts struggled for his body to act more and more. His skin shivered at her approach, feeling as if dozens of deadly creatures were crawling all over him.

And then she reached out and touched his hand.

And with a cute yelp, yanked her arm away.

"That's not fair!"

The girl's sweet voice turned vile and the cruelty Eragon had felt in her expression earlier had come to surface on her face, along with a vicious rage. Eragon's instinct would normally have him running, or at least getting into a position to defend himself, but control over his body had not returned to him.

"Why doesn't it work! It know it was you! You're the one!"

Out of rage, she tried to grab at Eragon, but the same sensation that forced her away before did so again. A faint burning smell entered his nostrils.

"RRRRRAAAAGGHHH! That stupid whore! FUCKING BITCH! She must have done-"

The expanse of darkness was swept away, as was the once pure child, who was raging about more violently then a dragon might have. Relief coursed through Eragon as the feeling of her presence and rage left him.

And then he woke up.

His eyes shot right open, only to be blinded by a ray of the sun, seeping through the curtains of a nearby window. Shielding his face, Eragon allowed his eyes to adjust to the light and soon found himself in a small, relatively empty room with brown stone walls.

"It was...just a dream?"

It was more to convince himself, but the second his eyes had opened, he knew that parts of it weren't. That emptiness the lack of Saphira's bond left him was still there, like a gaping hole in his chest.

Desperate for Saphira, he cast his mind out, ignoring everything except the memory of her and how her mind felt to him. He wasn't sure how far he expanded himself, but after reaching his limit, and not finding her, he stopped in his attempt.

"I see you're awake."

A new voice and a new person entered the room. There were no doors to the room, only an empty walkway, so the person's entry had been quite silent.

He was a tall man with tanned skin and thick, yet trimmed brown hair. His tidy beard had a fullness to it, but was quite short in length. He wore a dusty tan coloured shirt, a thick leather belt and brown leather pants above two thick boots. Green eyes the colour of moss growing in the forest gazed down at him.

Eragon wanted to ask the man a million questions. What happened to Saphira? The Elves? What was the girl he saw in the darkness? Or the woman in the tower? Eragon had guessed that this man had somehow brought him here, so he must have some answers.

As Eragon tried to speak, the man held up his hand.

"I can guess what you want to ask, but you're better off looking elsewhere. I was not the one to bring you here."

"But if you weren't..."

"You were lucky today. Extremely lucky. The Endr Caravan does not travel through the Al'Telik desert often, and they enter A'Beliese even less. It's a small miracle that you happened to be there on a day they went to the temple to pray."

Endr Caravan? Al'Telik? A'Beliese? The names were so foreign to Eragon.

"So, this Endr Caravan found me?"

"Yes, upon the fortieth floor of the tower. Along with a few others, too."

"Saphira?" Eragon asked without consideration for the man's knowledge of her.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Saphira? That name rings a bell, but there was no Saphira among those found. Unless one of them gave a false name."

"So...no dragon?"

"Dragon?" The man paused for a moment, then shook his head. "No wonder you were in that state. I take what I said back from earlier. You are not lucky. Not in the slightest." Before Eragon could speak again, the man continued. "The elves are already up. None of you are physically harmed, so feel free to get up and see them. They are outside, speaking with the caravan leaders."

"Thank you very much, for looking after me," said Eragon. The man gave a small yet gradual nod in response.

Eragon wanted to stay and ask the man more questions, but it looked like he wasn't going to stick around. So, Eragon slowly rose to his feet, watching as the man left the room. Then, he made his own way out, leaving behind the small house.

He thought his eyes had adjusted, but again Eragon's eyes were filled with light. Slowly, the glare faded and his eyes took in the sight around him.

It was a small town built around a large oasis, far larger then any Eragon and the elves had come across before. The buildings were simple in nature and most of them small, made of a stone very similar in colour to the enormous expanse of sand surrounding the oasis. Only a few had wooden structures built around them, such as a roof over the entrance, or a balcony. At the edge of the waters, the largest structure rested. To Eragon, it looked like an inn of sorts.

The heat of the desert didn't feel so bad next to the large lake and the tall trees growing by it's shore helped too. But it was still very hot, much more then Eragon was comfortable with.

People moved around the village, dressed in mainly in long, light robes, but some wore short, leather armour. It was quite lively for a town so far away from everything. And in the centre of it all, was a long train of carriages, pulled by creatures Eragon had never seen before.

They looked like large birds, with tall, powerful legs, yet short stubby wings that ends with small talons. For the most part, they were feathered in a variety of browns, whites and blacks, but scales covered the parts that weren't feathered. And they made a noise more like a husky growl, then the chirp of a bird. Tiny teeth poked out from their dark beaks.

Standing with the train of carriages were three familiar faces. Blodhgarm and Danlir spoke to a man with skin as dark as charcoal, whilst Ulithr seemed occupied with some of the bird-like creatures. The dark man didn't seem happy to be talking to the elves. As Ulithr was closer, Eragon approached him first.

"Aren't they marvelous?" Ulithr said without looking Eragon's way. "The people here call them Raparkee's. It's like they are a cross between a great lizard and a great bird, yet they are like horses to the people of the desert. They can survive the heats and go great lengths without consuming water. They feel quite intelligent too."

Ulithr's cheerful attitude annoyed Eragon. "Shouldn't you be more concerned with something else?" The words came out harsher then Eragon intended, but he made no apologies. The loss of Saphira and her precious luggage had put him in a bad mood. Not to mention what he saw before he woke.

Ulithr didn't look impressed with Eragon's tone. "We've already asked a lot of the people of this village about what happened, especially the caravan people who found us, but they have all given us the same answer. We were unconscious upon the fortieth floor and there wasn't a dragon in sight, nor any sign of the Eldunari and Eggs."

Blodhgarm left the dark man and approached the two. "Ulithr, you should show more respect when speaking with Shadeslayer." When Ulithr ignored him, Blodhgarm gave Eragon an apologetic incline of the head. "I apologise. I will deal with him later."

Feeling foolish, Eragon shook his head. "No, the fault is mine. I'm...not in the best mood. I apologise, Ulithr."

"Accepted," replied Ulithr, turning back to the creatures he had called Raparkee. Eragon hadn't really noticed until now, but Ulithr seemed to lack the manners of most elves. If anything, he acted human. It wasn't a bad thing, just new.

"Should I tell you what we've learnt from the caravan?" asked Blodhgarm.

"Please."

"This is the town of Endrgad. The Endr Caravan, a travelling group of traders that originally set up this town, found us in the tower and brought us here. If you recall, we saw this town upon the map of the library's fifth floor."

"I remember. North east of the tower."

"Indeed. Saphira, Cuaroc, nor the Eggs or Eldunari were not with us. The people of the caravan seemed less inclined to converse with us after we mentioned Saphira, however. It feels like they have something against the dragon species."

Eragon was reminded of the way the woman's expression twisted after seeing them. "What was that place? The tower? The man I awoke to called it a temple, I think."

"The fortieth floor is a temple. The tower itself goes by the name A'Beliese."

"The name that the man mentioned earlier. What did they say about it?"

"Only that it is a most holy site...and by bringing a dragon upon it's surface, we have committed a sin in their eyes."

"Did they say why?"

"They did not. We weren't able to get much else from them. In fact, I believe they wish to be rid of us. We should count ourselves lucky they were willing to bring us this far."

It seemed like that was all Blodhgarm had to say about the matter, so Eragon brought up something that had bugged him. "Before you woke up, did you seen anything?"

Blodhgarm's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Like a dream?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "I'm afraid not. It was a dreamless time for me. Is there something that you saw?"

Eragon considered telling him about the girl, but then decided against it. He didn't want to bring it up ever again, recalling the feeling that girl had sent through him. "It's nothing."

Blodhgarm looked like he wasn't satisfied, but was stopped by Danlir's arrival. "Did you learn anything new?" he asked.

"Only that they consider dragons to be enemies. Nothing new, in any case.

But did the notice the same thing I did?"

Blodhgarm frowned as he nodded. "We couldn't enter their minds, despite the fact that they aren't magicians. If they were, we would have met resistance. However, it was like there wasn't anything to enter."

"I tried viewing into some of the people around town. Some were the same, but others I could look into."

Though he trusted the elves, Eragon tried to test it himself, selecting the charcoal skinned man they had been talking to as a target. As soon as he extended himself towards the man, he felt nothing but an empty space. It was the same with the members of the caravan around him.

"We are in a foreign land. The possibility that magic we won't understand exists isn't low. Plus, it makes gathering information from the locals quite tedious, especially when those that seem to know are unwilling to give."

Eragon spoke up. "We may want to try to see if our own magic is still effective later, away from the townspeople. If you remember back to the tower, we couldn't search out there either. But until then, we'll have the leave the issue aside. What we should be focusing on is this: What do we do now? What can we do?"

Eragon came this way to find a place to raise the eggs, to resurrect the dragon race, and the dragon riders. Now Saphira, his own dragon, was missing. As was the Eggs and Eldunari that were with her. Right now, they had nothing.

The answer was obvious. They had to find Saphira and her precious cargo.

"But how?" Eragon asked, more to himself.

This was a foreign land, and they had no means to get back to Alagaesia for help. The caravan may have been able to get them here, but they certainly weren't going to take them back to A'Beliese. After learning about Saphira, that option had been closed to them.

"You won't learn much else taking to the caravan if you've already mentioned that dragon of yours."

The man from before approached. Out of the corner of his eye, Eragon saw the men of the caravan eyes him with a similar dislike they had shown Blodhgarm and Danlir.

"Can we learn anything from you?" asked Eragon.

The man half-turned. "I'd say so. Come to the inn, we can talk more there."

**[A/N**: And so the story begins. I feel like I should warn future readers (God bless for sticking around this long) that much of this story takes place outside of Alagaesia and with little interaction from the actual cast until later. On another note, thank you everyone for the reviews you've given me. They are immensely helpful and I really appreciate it.**]****  
><strong>**[A/N**: To Dalja, thank you for reminding me about that. I'd completely forgotten to mention that, as bad as that sounds. Guess I got ahead of myself. And to Aurelia Roschelle, now that I read back over the chapter, your absolutely right. I was trying to go for more of a act now, cry later, kind of thing, but I guess that isn't Eragon.. Thanks for letting me know, it'll keep me conscious of if I go OOC again.**]**


	5. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The inside of the inn was much like any other in the way it was set out. The only difference between the inns he had seen before and this one, were the decorations around, including the wall mounts and rugs. The patterns and styles seemed simple, yet so different from what you'd expect from Alagaesia. It cemented within Eragon's mind that they were in a foreign land once again.

The man lead them to a large, comfortable table set. Like the decor, they were simple but Eragon was surprised to see the chairs were cushioned.

"You should probably get some liquids into you. Some water each?" asked the man.

"Please." After Eragon's word, the man turned to a young fellow behind the bar and gave him a nod. "Our thanks," Eragon offered when the young man briskly completed his task. Then, he turned to the man who brought them here. "So, you said we could learn a thing or two from you."

"Considering you lot are from Alagaesia, you could probably learn much from me, if you're willing to stick around for a while." The man spoke with an informal tone that was neither friendly nor the opposite. "The east would be as alien to you as the world beyond the sky"

That surprised Eragon. "You are aware of the hollow sky?"

A small grin, somewhere between amusement and pity formed upon the man's lips. "That's common knowledge around here. Thanks to the quirky devices that exist further east, you can even view much of it up close."

Hearing that perked Eragon's interest, but he had more important things we wanted to know. "It might be better for us to stay on topic. As much as we'd like to learn what we can, we don't have a lot of time to spend."

"If you are worried about the dragon, there is no need."

"Why do you say that?"

"If she isn't dead already, she won't be killed."

The man spoke without much consideration, giving it to them straight. Eragon didn't mind that manner of speaking, but the bluntness in how he delivered that hurt. However, he decided within an instant to have faith in that she was alive. Anything else and he may just give in that emptiness Saphira's absence had left him with.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because what the Goddess doesn't kill, she uses. So I like to say."

All of them frowned as the man said that. "Goddess?"

"The locals think so, as does much of the east. I haven't met any real goddesses, so I don't have anything to compare her to...but if they did exist, then she'd be pretty close."

Eragon was suddenly reminded of his time during the crowning of Orik, when that strange, transparent creature had descended. The woman Eragon saw didn't feel anything like it, but he wouldn't deny that she felt a much greater being then he. He didn't want to admit it though, that the only one who could have taken Saphira, the eggs and Eldunari, was a goddess.

"Who is she? From what you said when I woke up, it sounded as if you've experienced something."

The man's eyes clouded over. "Yeah. You could say that. Her name probably won't mean anything to you, but she is called Belanai'a. Those of the Endr Caravan see her as the mother of a long lost species they revere. I, however, just know her to be the Queen of Oslo'mae. You wouldn't know, but that's the land to the east of the desert."

Eragon couldn't stop himself from thinking of Galbatorix when he heard she was a Queen. He had been a king and also a person of power beyond most, if not all. The woman's presence and sense of fear she instilled was far greater than anything Galbatorix had inflicted upon him and that concerned him.

He wanted to know more about the land to the east, simply out of curiosity for unknown lands, but he knew there were more important things.

"Where would she have taken Saphira?"

The man looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, but that's something I can't answer with absolute certainty. That your dragon was taken back to the Capital of Oslo'mae, Amareld, would be my best guess, but for fear of sending you on a fruitless journey, I won't promise that's the case."

Blodhgarm spoke up. "Would that not be the right choice? If she is Queen, surely that is where she'd return."

"I've never been to Oslo'mae myself. This is as far as I've gone. However, I do hear plenty from people within the Endr Caravan who don't know my circumstances, or ignore them. And what I've heard for a long time now, is that the Queen rarely sits upon the throne in Amareld. Her Steward takes care of that, and as for her, there's been nothing said about that. Plenty of questions asked, but no answers. Only guesses."

The man speaking of his circumstances again touched Eragon's interest again, but that would have to come later. "Would you be able to point us to anyone who could tell us?"

"Yes, but there's a catch. Could they tell you? Yeah. Will they tell you? No. I'm sure of that."

"Who?"

The man chuckled once, more in mockery then amusement. "Her Steward, Zabek Thaelon."

"Zebekthaelon? That's a strange name."

"Oslo'maen names don't work like they do in Alagaesia. Everyone has a first and family name, not just nobility. Zabek is his name. Thaelon is his family. Anyway, if there was one person who could tell you, it would be him. But he'd never give up anything on the Queen, and he has the strength to stop anyone from using force to get it out of him."

"Is he that powerful?"

"Your a Dragon Rider, right?" Eragon was surprised to hear the man bring them up. But then again, from the way he's been talking, it should be obvious that he was from Alagaesia to begin with.

"Yes."

"You know of Vrael? Or perhaps Oromis?"

"I do. I never finished my training properly, but Oromis was my master."

The man paused for a moment, fixing Eragon with a solid gaze. "Was?"

"It is what it implies."

The man was speechless. His previously neutral, sometimes easy face was now caught in an expression of disbelief. "You're joking, right? Oromis was one of the best..."

It struck Eragon then and there that this man was unaware of the recent events in Alagaesia, and also that he was old enough to remember before it. Eragon had a feeling earlier, but now he was sure of it.

"You're Rickard Wandermind, aren't you?"

The man didn't seem surprised by that. "I thought you would have figured that out sooner, especially since you were brought in carrying my diary. That and it's obvious I'm from Alagaesia. But forgot me. What happened to Oromis? I learned much from him. I had many masters and he was one of them."

Hearing that the man was indeed Rickard from the diary, opened up a whole new avenue of questions Eragon wanted to ask. The elves, too, looked much more inquisitive then they had been before. The casual nature in how Rickard had admitted, though, threw them off a little.

Eragon didn't want to waste time, regardless of Rickard's earlier words, but after saying as much as he had, felt he had to say more.

It was with a heavy heart that Eragon recounted a brief history of Alagaesia, including everything from the fall of the Dragon Riders, to the Galbatorix's own end. It was an odd sensation for Eragon to spend with some so clueless about issues that were common knowledge where he came from, but Rickard probably had felt the same about them. When he ended, Rickard seemed much more withdrawn then before.

"It's good to know the monster got what he deserved," he said finally. "So the Dragon Riders are gone, completely. Save for you, your half brother who left Alagaesia as well, and the elf queen? 3 Riders..." Again, he feel silent, looking at the table's surface.

"Four, actually," said Ulithr, deliberately looking at Rickard.

Rickard lifted his head, looking no better then before. "Half a rider. If you've been in A'Beliese, then you've seen my other half." He took a long drink from his glass, and seemed dissatisfied with it, probably because it was only water.

"I've said to myself we should stay on topic, but might I ask..." Eragon started.

Rickard spoke with little hesitation "It was Belanai'a that got Liasynth. But don't think that I hate her for it, it was my own fault."

"It was?" Each of them found that hard to believe, considering how the woman had treated them earlier.

Rickard took a deep breath. "It was stupid really. We'd been in the desert for a long time, flying to the nearby oasis then back to the tower. Liasynth had gone months without meat and she was becoming a real handful. I swear she was even considering eating me up. Anyway, I was going through each and every book that took my interest. Learnt little, but I wasn't concerned. It's not for naught they called me Wandermind. Then, Belanai'a showed up. I don't know why, but apparently she comes to A'Beliese every now and then. My guess would be to hear the prays of those in the temple up on the fortieth floor. When she entered, Liasynth picked up her scent immediately and took off. She didn't bother communicating with me, so I was worried and took off after her. I think it was then that I lost my diary as I rushed away.

"I ran all the way down to the first floor, and that was when I saw her. Even though Liasynth was about to attack her, I could barely act, blown away by her beauty, as much as I hate to admit. Then, before Liasynth could even draw her claw back...her head fell off" Rickard shook his head slightly, as if to stop himself from recalling the moment. "Before her head had even touched the ground, Belanai'a had already focused on me. The second she had, it was over. I don't even know what she did but when I woke up, I was with the Caravan, and they were heading towards Endrgad.

"And that's it. When I got here, the innkeeper at the time agreed to take me in, in exchange for work. With Liasynth gone, I was dead to the world, so I think I agreed out of instinct or something. I didn't even bother returning for my diary. Then, before I knew it, the innkeeper had passed on, and with no family to inherit the inn, he left it to me. I've been here ever since."

He spoke much of his tale with a flat tone, staring into his empty glass. Speaking about it had probably recalled a lot of bad memories and feelings, and after knowing what Glaedr had gone through, Eragon could only sympathise with Rickard.

Rickard leaned back in his chair, finally looking up. "My dragon was killed, simply because she was hungry and tried to eat the wrong prey. What foolishness. But...I've beaten myself up about it for almost a century, so there is little point in continuing, right?" That fact that he had survived his dragons loss was something quite commendable. "Well, we've digressed quite a bit. What say we get back on topic?"

Blodhgarm inclined his head, prompting everyone else to do the same. "Thank you for speaking to us about it. It must have been hard."

"Bah," said Rickard, as if trying to get back to his former self. "I never could stomach the elven manners. Far too polite. But, you are welcome all the same. Enough of this. We have more important things to discuss, namely getting your dragon back, and it's cargo. I didn't realise that so much was riding on her."

"What can we do?" Eragon asked, remembering Rickard was unaware of Belanai'a consistent whereabouts. "We must get Saphira back, this we know, but how?"

"Belanai'a must be found. You could always wait in A'Beliese until she comes back, but years may pass before she does. Other then that, only those loyal to her would probably know and getting it out of them would be a dangerous task. If you antagonise Belanai'a's subjects, you'll have to deal with the Oslo'maen army."

Eragon let out a very long and troubled sigh. Months may have passed, but his long journey to defeating Galbatorix was still fresh in his memory, as was all the trouble and pain it brought with it. He knew he had to get Saphira back, but the idea of repeating that was very daunting.

"I remember you spoke of the Varden and the Dwarves, and eventually Surda and the Elves as allies. I'm sorry to say, but you won't find any of the sort in Oslo'mae. Despite all her hatred towards dragons, the people of Oslo'mae love Belanai'a. She is by no means an evil monarch as Galbatorix was."

That sparked hope within Eragon. "Then perhaps we could reason with her? If she is not evil, and if she is a great enough ruler to earn the love and trust of her people, then surely we can talk with her. I don't even care if we have to cross the Al'Telik desert again to leave, we'll go if she'll return them to us."

"I'd say that' s an option, if I hadn't experienced first hand how she felt towards dragons. I figured you'd feel the same way." Rickard motioned for the bar attendant to refill their drinks. "Did you not try to say anything to her the first time?"

"I did...but she dispatched us before I could say anything."

"That's the problem, then. It's obvious she hates dragons, enough to kill one that attacks her when she could have easily stopped it, or enough to attack those with dragons without listening to a word they say. My guess is that the process would repeat itself if you came to face her, only this time you'd end up in the dungeons of Amareld, or dead."

"Then the only way we could initiate talks with her, is if we can survive that first assault," said Blodhgarm. "But that's another problem we have no answer to. I can't say for certain, but I don't think it was magic of any sort we know about that she used. We can't expect to counter magic we don't know ourselves."

"Not to mention the fact that we can't even read into the minds of a lot of people around here," added Danlir, dissatisfied with that truth.

Rickard gestured with his glass towards Blodhgarm, then to Danlir. "Those are good points, thanks for reminding me. The people of Oslo'mae, Belanai'a included, don't use magic as we do. At least not that I know of. Those who I've seen use it here use strange drawings that supposedly activate pre-built spells. It acts in a similar way to the ancient language in that it's magic bound to a form."

Blodhgarm's brows lifted "That sounds inefficient, considering how little time it takes us to speak magic."

"There's a bonus to it though. There is no limit to the amount they can use it. Rather then be limited by their stamina as well as knowledge, like us, they are only limited by their knowledge of what drawings they know, and how they draw them."

"Like on paper, or the ground?"

"They are methods, but one person I've seen draws it with it own blood, without actually using his hands." At their expressions, Rickard chuckled. "It's the truth. He told it to me like this: He imagines the drawing, or crest, as he put it, he wishes to use and blood he has extracted does the drawing for him. Supposedly it's a high level technique, but the fact that it can be done is amazing, especially considering that it eliminates the time it takes to normally draw it. He casts a spell instantly, with no drain to his stamina and he can keep doing it."

"But that makes little sense," spoke up Ulithr. "Where does the energy to cast the magic come from? The land and people around?"

Rickard shrugged. "'That I can't tell you.' The man who showed me used those same words. Despite being so high leveled. I don't think he was being honest. And as for the issue regarding peering into one's minds, I can't say for sure. If you ask the men and women of the Endr Caravan, they'll say it's Belanai'a's protection. Or maybe it's just a wide spread technique, more advanced then our methods of mental defense."

"So we are back to square one," muttered Ulithr.

"Seems that way," added Rickard, rising to his feet. "Might be a good idea to take a break. I imagine I've filled you're heads with enough for now. I had you rest at a friends house earlier since we were full up here, but tonight you can stay here. Free of charge. Consider it a gift from one rider to another. Until then, feel free to do whatever. I'll be happy to tell you more tonight."

"Thank you for your hospitality," said Eragon. "And your help. It was an honour meeting you."

"The honour is mine, Shadeslayer. I only wish there was more I could do." Rickard left them and joined the young man behind the bar.

Back at the table, Ulithr sighed. "So we've gone from having a King as an enemy, to a Goddess. Looks like we are moving up in the world." Hearing sarcasm from an elf was both strange and refreshing for Eragon, but it only made him think of Ulithr as less of an elf and more of a human.

"There are probably people in Alagaesia who once thought Galbatorix was a god due to his power," said Blodhgarm. "Not to mention those that once worshipped the dragon riders. It is most likely no different here."

"Hope so," said Ulithr.

Danlir spoke with far more formality then his companion. "We may not be aware of Belanai'a's whereabouts, but it goes without saying that we'll probably find her somewhere in her nation. We should looks for provisions if we are to make the journey. The distance is far less then what we have previously travelled, so it's not an impossible journey. However..."

"As confident as we are in our strength, can the four of us really pull off something like this?" finished Blodhgarm for him. "Losing the Eldunari was a huge blow to our battle strength and it's decreases our odds of success to such a level that we may wish to consider other options."

"Such as?" asked Eragon. He had felt the same way, but knew of none they could take. There were options he'd like to take, but the possibility of those seem almost non-existent.

"Perhaps we should call back to Alagaesia for assistance?" Though Blodhgarm suggested it, he didn't sound very confident with it.

_And rightly _so, thought Eragon. How could they expect assistance from their home when they themselves wouldn't have made it here without the luck of having the Endr Caravan so close by? And what's more, the more that make the journey, the more supplies are needed, and that means more luggage. That was the main reason why they left most of the elven party behind on the border of the desert.

"We could try discussing it further with Rickard tonight," said Eragon, standing. "But for now, we should relax a little and clear out heads. As Rickard said, if Saphira isn't dead then she won't be killed, so while we'd want to get her back as soon as possible, naturally, we aren't racing against the clock. I, myself, believe with all my heart that Saphira is still alive, so we shouldn't trouble ourselves to breaking point."

Blodhgarm nodded in approval. "Very well. If you are leaving, we should meet back her around sunset."

"I'll see you then," said Eragon before heading towards the door.

**[A/N:** A bit of an information dump chapter. Hope you can bear with it. You may get sick of reading this at the end of every chapter, but again, thank for the reviews and also for reading this far. Since this is my first attempt at a long fanfic, feedback is always welcome and appreciated.**]**


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